


A Permanent Upgrade

by HoneyChips4090



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: And blood to keep them satisfied, Be More Chill Book References, But with advanced Quantum Vampire Nanotechnology, Cirque Du Freak refrences, F/M, Gen, It's from japan, M/M, Normal horny teenage experience, References to Be More Chill, References to several musicals, Seriously what do I put in tags, Squips (Be More Chill), Squips need mtn dew to activate, Vampires, Vampiric Squips, What do I put in the tags?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28985682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyChips4090/pseuds/HoneyChips4090
Summary: Vampires: Creatures of myth and legend.A creature that lives off of blood to survive, unable to go into the sun, and have abilities beyond human understanding.Take a vampire, place it into Quantum Nanotechnology CPU.You'd get a S.Q.U.I.P. (Super Quantum Unit Intel vampiric-Processor)It's from Japan, it's a red oblong pill. Pre-programmed, experimental, and dangerous.(Shoutout to the specific vampire monster-source I'm using: Darren Shan's Cirque Du Freak, I am absolutely in love with it and the books. Read them if you're able. Those books are amazing.)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

School. Specifically Middle Borough High School.

An everyday classroom scene unfolds. Mr. Gretch about to take attendance, and the students chatting away.

"She was like 'I'll only do it if you beat me at pool'.." Jenna Rolan, the coolest girl in class is talking to her friends about her "slut" friend.

I'm tapping my pencil on my desk absent-mindedly, and Gretch is halfway through attendance.

"Abbey."

"Here."

"Atborough."

"Here."

"Azu, not-Asu."

"Here."

"Salazar."

"Here."

"Caligula."

"Here." She says, raising her hand. I glance at her, she's pretty.

"Duvoknovich."

"Here."

"Vizzini."

"Yes. Here."

"Jackson."

"...huh? Oh- here."

"Sawyer."

"Here."

"Goranski."

"Here."

"Marks."

"Yuh."

"Hansen."

"...here."

"Heere?"

That's me. I'm not going to cause a scene so I say: "Yeah, present."

I hear someone snicker, and I sigh quietly. It's time to pull out the Humiliation Sheet already. I put the date, time, place, and type of humiliation down on the preprinted page. I made sure that nobody could see me write it down.

It's been weird recently. I can remember talking to someone, like an actual engaging conversation, but that’s it.

I'd sometimes look at my arm and see a small scar. I figure I've probably nicked it when walking by a fence or something.

Other than that, things are normal as ever. And I've been awkward and horny as ever.

Mr. Gretch writes on the board, he'd cupped his cactus earlier and while that never really hurts him he'd put it down on the small edge of the whiteboard.

_A=P(1+rt)_

"Simple interest is the intrest paid on your investment or principal and not on any interest added..."

 _k_ sucks in math, but equations with a bunch of letters suck even more. My ears tune out from Mr. Gretch and tune back to Jenna.

She keeps talking so I keep listening.

"Okay and then Elizabeth was like, 'When can we go'. And the guy says," Jenna speaks in a low voice, a bad -ish impression of a guy. "Come and sit on _this_ pipe'."

Anne is eating it all up, laughing like a suffocating hyena- _"Bwer-her-her"_ -and craining her neck to take in every word. It's mid-October, and everone has stopped talking about summer.

The big story was that Jake Dillinger had sex with Elizabeth after she lost at a game of pool. Jake can do anything. And I believe it.

People are talking about the Halloween Dance, parties, SATs, and whatever else is going on or going to happen.

I tune my attention to other noticeable activities in the room.

Jackson Marks (everyone calls him Mark) and some other kid are discussing video games. George has his headphones on, listening to music as he works out math problems. Rich is boasting to anyone who would listen about how he got laid with Madeline..

And Christine. Quiet in her own world up by the front. She looks pretty.

I feel the folded up letter in my pocket, it's next to the chocolate Shakespeare. I'd give her both as soon as I get to theater.


	2. Chapter 2

I flushed the letter before lunch. It was stupid and I shouldn't have even considered it. But I still have the Shakespeare chocolate- so, that's good. I can still give that to her. My eyes search for my best friend, Michael Mell, he sits in different places in the cafeteria every other day. Sometimes inside with an empty table, and other times outside where the bees are.

It's really easy to spot him if you barely try, because he's a guy with kind of a weird, ramen wave-like, dirty blonde afro- _ish_ hair and a pair red headphones with some plastic mega man stickers stuck on. They have this spiral chord on them that he says he replaced from an old telephone. Those headphones let him sit down _anywhere_. Jocks, D&D nerds, cheerleaders, you name it- he sat there (though he only really sits with this guy named George and a few girls). No one bothers him when he's got them on; obviously he's doing _much_ more important stuff.

I flick his glasses as I approach. "Dude, what's up?" He's not listening to anything anyway- other than Bob Marley or Wii music- I caught him doing that once. It's only about the vibe of the headphones being on.

 _"Mrrphgnnn."_ Michael says, a little annoyed about having to readjust his glasses with about a half of a California sushi roll on his jacket. "I was eating- gimmie a warning. That would be nice."

I sit down next to him and snatch the half eaten sushi. "Sure. I'll do that." I can see his fake astonishment as I eat his jacket sushi. We both laugh.

Michael leans on me with all his body weight. "Soo romeo, how's the letter?"

"Oh- I.. flushed it." I shamefully admit it to him. Flushed, and gone into the sewers. "I- well.. yeah. It felt embarrassing. I couldn't give her a letter. That's weird." It's weird enough that I even wrote it in the first place, but I was just in the moment at the time.

Michael almost chokes on his milk. "You're already pussying out?" But it sounds more like: _"Murgh mmurrphmm uphying euh?"_ All that milk doesn't make him easy to understand, but we've done 'chubby bunny' enough to get the jist of words.

"It felt cheesy," I poke at my lunch tray, cheap cafeteria pizza is kinda gross- and I'm not that hungry. "I didn't want to do anything that would look desperate y'know?" I say, itching behind my ear.

"Did you say something dumb, or did you felt like people would spread rumors?"

"Wait- they're spreading rumors about me?"

"No dumbass." He takes the wrapper off of an orange dreamsicle, biting off the tip. "You thinking people are doing something and you actually doing something is, like, waaay different."

"I guess my expectations of other people are dumb, I overthink like crazy."

Michael's eyes seem to shine for a moment, then he starts swaying his body sharply. _"Leave expectations at the door,"_

"Michael no-"

_"Just let your eyes explore."_

"Stop-"

George joins into my friend's crackhead singing. _"My cinematic flair."_

Michael locks arms with him, pointing with his other to their shoes. _"From my boot to derrière."_

I cover my face, hoping this will stop.

Michael sways his hips. "I've _got a lacy, silken feel."_

 _"With arms as hard as steel."_ George flexes.

I groan in annoyance.

Michael laughs, snorting a bit. "I think we did a good enough job. Thanks dude."

George salutes and heads off elswhere. I uncover my face to see of anyone saw what happened, and thank god, nobody saw.

"Kinky Boots? _Really_ _Michael?_ " I speak sharply, but keep my voice down. "No more Cyndi Lauper, please?"

"Cannot guarantee that, but I'll try." He folds his hands, expression becoming serious, like we're adults at a meeting or something.

"I still have the chocolate. I can give her that, she's what's important in the end of this whole thing." I spin my hand in a circle to emphasize the thing. "It's less stalkerish to give someone chocolate, right?"

"Jeremy." Michael adjusts his jacket strings. "Chocolate can't fail, everyone likes chocolate. And she's in a Shakespeare play that you signed up to be in- so _obviously_ she'll like Shakespeare."

"But what if- _gaachk-"_

Michael had shoved the dreamsicle into my mouth to shut me up. "Dude, think how you'll feel if you DON'T give it to her. You'll be home, jerking it as you think how you completely missed your chance."

I remove the dreamsicle from my face, now my mouth tastes like the incarnation of the color orange.

"No duh, I'll feel like shit." I always do, can't dial phone numbers, can't hold hands without sweating, or going to a dance that I know I can't dance at. The normal way that I've grown used to feeling.

"Just give it to her, don't-"

"Yo, ramen-head, move your ass from the garbage can." Rich directs his voice to Michael. Rich has come to the scene- not like that _-_ he just appeared or arrived. Something to that effect. He's shorter than us, but very built. There's this streak of red in his otherwise dirty blonde hair, like he's some kind of a rooster. Michael scoots himself out of the way and Rich drops the whole tray into the trash, and I mean, _the whole tray._ He glares at us.

"What? Dorks."

* * *

Now that it's the end of the day, I walk the school's long hallway to reach the theatre. So far, in high school, I've been in Bye Bye Birdie and A Christmas Carol to raved reviews from my mother before she divorced my dad and left me with him.

I still like everything about school plays- being from school to school, learning lines in the bathroom, how everyone is panicked but it's all good at the last minute, how the second performance is better than the first, taking bows at the end, the parents bring proud while you are absolutely _sweating_ in your very hot costume, and it's always fun after all of that effort.

I've even managed to make acquaintances with the shy stagecraft dude (I think his name is Percy). We don't talk- but we kind of give eachother a wave.

"Hey, you're in this?" I ask Mark from math, sitting down near him. I'm his friend, sorta.

"Yeah I'm in this deal," he says. He's playing on his phone's Game Boy SP emulator. "Wazzit called again?"

"A Midsummer Night's Dream." I sigh.

"Big ass summer coma. Gotcha."

I move my seat two places from him, covered in either white paint or condom residue stains. I'd only know- not that I would really, I messed around with one to-

"Bam. Hot to death," Mark remarks.

"Wuh-"

"Talkin' bout my game bruh, mind your damn beeswax."

I glance at Mark's game. It's a pixelated SUV being driven on train tracks while the game character sprite is shooting a rifle at what looks like zombies.

"That's so not pog. Don't peek, dork." Mark's words make me cringe a little on the inside. He lifts his phone, preventing me from seeing the emulated game. "I'm the only one in this whole school with both a physical copy and an emulation of KAP Three; y'gotta pay me five bucks to even see it."

I leave him be. I shouldn't pry further into his 'beeswax' and he slides down a seat, like I've got some kind of disease. I decide to move myself down by a row.

"Damn, Jeremy, you don't have to be such a bitch." He mutters as I take my new seat. Then Christine, unusually late, walks down the aisle past us. She's dragging Percy by the sleeve of his jacket, and another girl following behind, Veronica Sawyer, who usually sits with him. Christine is rolling her eyes at Mark while going past us, and I think it's possible that her eyes land on my being for a milisecond or so. When is the teacher going to get here?

 ** _"AAAAAAAAAAAA!"_** Mr. Reyes shrieks from the entrance to the theater, and I hear Percy yelp. It's not an uncommon occurrence.

"Lmao what a girl." Mark says behind me. I hear the quiet sound of dying enemies from the Game Boy SP emulator.

 **"It is wonderful to see you all here."** Mr. Reyes gets behind a stage mic- which is not needed at all. **"It is wonderful to have such a cast like you. We are going to have a magnificent time in the play."** Mr. Reyes is a tall, skiny man that wears sweater vests and ties. For his day job he teaches English.

**"Let's begin, I will give you all your parts. Jeremy Heere!"**

I look at Mr. Reyes. "Yes?"

**"You are Lysander. It is a very demanding role that will take all of your concentration and time."**

"Er- uh.. thanks."

_**"Jaaaaake!"** _

Jake? As in Jake Dillinger? Guess it's not enough to _just_ be on the football team and a leader in the SU. Down in front, he shifts in his seat to acknowledge Mr. Reyes.

**"You are going to be Demetrius, another very tough role."**

"Aight," Jake says.

 **"Puck? Where is Puck? _Christine_** **Caniglia?"**

Christine had moved seats, now down in front with Jake.

"Yes!" She jumps out of her seat, pumping her fist. I hear a very faint clapping from the back; it stops when Jake turns to glare at Percy. I turn my head to face the back; Percy's friend is staring right back at Jake, who turns back around.

**"Don't get too excited, it's a big mess of lines to memorize."**

Mr. Reyes moves on, giving the rest of the roles out to the others. Sawyer, Helena, Bottom, and a dozen others. Mark has the role of a cross dressing elf, how ironic.

 **"Those are the roles; it is now time for the read-through. Ladies, fetch two chair each and bring them on stage."** Mr. Reyes turns to make eye contact with the props crew kid. _**"Percy**_ **, since no one else is willing,** **you get to microwave my hot pocket. You know where the Teacher's Lounge is."**

Percy looks up and nods, hurrying off to go do that. It's kind of sad that he doesn't have the assertiveness to say no. I've heard that his gentle personality _does_ let him be friends with Christine plus a few other girls, but it also makes him an easy target for being picked on (for instance: I've never heard him talk around other guys, I guess he was made self-conscious about his voice).

The girls lug chairs to the stage and we all sit down to begin the read through. I grab the seat next to Christine's.

"Um, so.. congratulations. On the role." I speak quietly, only really for her to hear.

She passive aggressively flips through the script. "Why even have the stage crew here?" Christine speaks with a fierce tone. "If he's just going to make them do simple tasks, why not let them do what they're _supposed_ to?"

"I'm, uh, not sure. There's plenty of time for them to work, actually, but I guess it's bad-"

"Don't they have rights? Don't we have rights?"

"Those- those don't apply to students. We're not adults-"

"It's so frustrating though!"

"Right..." I tap my finger on the head of the Shakespeare chocolate inside of may pocket. "By the way- I'm Jeremy." I stick out my other hand for her to shake, but pull it back as a regretted choice.

"I know who you are, you're in math. Right?" Christine looks at me.

"Yeah. I am. But you know, you can be in a class with someone for a long time-"

 **"Lysander!"** Mr. Reyes snaps his fingers at me. **"Speak!"**

I flip through to my first line and start reading. "Er- ...'You have her father's love, Demet- Dem.." I squint. "..Deme-tri-us; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him'."

 **"Thank you Jeremy, really, _excellent."_** He purses his lips in disappointment.


	3. Chapter 3

The chocolate had melted in my pocket during the read-through. Some of it melted into the fabric, so I had to head to the boys' bathroom. 

So here I am, turning my sugary pocket inside out to rinse off in the sink. Foil in the trash? Check. I scrub the inside of my pocket with damp paper towels and soap. I'm not going to be called out for looking like I had a turd in my pocket, that would be a total humiliation event of itself. I'm scrubbing that chocolate as hard as I can.

I hear the door clang. I look, despite not wanting to- it's Rich Goranski, striding in like some sort of cocky Han Solo or Peter Parker from Spiderman 2.

Sometimes I think that Rich's ego is bigger than his penis, but he handles his dick the same. Probably taking special measures to get it out of his pants. Is that weird to think? I hope not. I'm only trying to clean my pocket at the sink- I shouldn't be thinking about someone else taking a piss.

"Waddup, bitch?"

Cheezits chucking bikes, he noticed me.

"Hey, Rich." I hoarsely croak out, frozen completely like a raccon that got caught stealing (I usually go in that state when confronted with sudden confrontation).

"You shit your pocket tall-ass?" Rich asks over his shoulder, he's here for after school sport stuff. The silence is killing me, especially when it's just a sink and a guy pissing.

"I don't talk to.. people who are busy with the urinal." Is what I want to tell him, but I don't.

Rich walks over and I get the worst mental image of him coming over here to piss on my shoe. He's still dripping and that does _not_ help the situation. "Dude, seriously. What the hell is it? Chocolate?" I'd say his tone was concerned, but my mind was flying with thoughts of being punched in the bathroom that I didn't notice.

"Soo, was it like, supposed to be a gift for a girl? Cuz I think you totally failed." He snorts, zipping his pants. "You wanna talk to that girl or just pathetically simp for the rest of the year?"

I blink. "Uh- what-"

"You want to get that girl or not?"

"Yeah.." Honestly, I _do_ want to be with Christine. I'm desperate at this point so whatever advice I am about to get is something I'm going to take.

"I think you're pretty cool, so, I'm gonna tell you what made me awesome."

I await Rich's words, either an insult or actual advice, I just wanted to hear him out.

"I wasn't always like this, freshman year was hell. I was in a low state of mind, I was horny, depressed, and sex deprived- so I got a squip."

"You, uh, got quick?"

"Nah man, not _quick._ A **squip**."

"Ohhhh.. what?"

"You are.. hopeless, helpless, and that's a major bummer to watch. It's pathetic man." He leans on the sink. "You, my guy, _need_ a squip." He taps my chest with his finger.

"What does uhh- what does it do?"

"You don't have to worry about that man! It's preprogrammed- absolutely amazing- once it gets up there," Rich then pokes my forehead. "It tells you how to be cool, like, _all_ the time. It interacts with your brain- if you actually have one that is- and it talks to you telepathically."

"So.. funky telepathic robot man tells me how to do the cool thing?"

His lips part, making that disappointed _tch_ noise. "Dude if you were squipped, you wouldn't be using outdated slang and lingo like that. It's clunky phrasing."

I frown slightly. I kind of enjoy saying that kind of thing, it's one of the only things I've heard Percy say in my range of hearing. Something about the plot of The Princess Bride that was to the effect of: _"Funky swordsman wants revenge on his father's killer, he learns to sword and says this long thing to the dude that killed him."_ I honestly got a chuckle out of it.

Despite all of that, all I can say to Rich is: "Ah.."

"And dude? I'm sorry I treated you like garbage, I only do it cuz' Evil Kermit tells me to. A dick for social reasons, y'get me? But now it thinks you're a decent guy that might wanna get a squip of your own."

I snort. "Evil kermit?" I imagine Kermit the Frog in a dark cloak talking about how to be a complete jerk- that itself is hilarious.

"Yea, it's funny sometimes." He smiles for a moment before returning to a more smooth, douchebag-like expression. "So do ya accept?"

"Okay- uh, ap-apology accepted." I grab paper towels and dry my pocket. "Where do I...?"

"Payless, at the mall." He counts his fingers for a moment. "Sss- uh- six hundred bucks for getting it AT payless. Or just two hundred for a reservation from me, and then four hundred for when it arrives."

"That's.." I calculate the numbers. "Still six hundred dollars."

"Yeah, good luck with that tall-ass." He chuckles, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

I notice a thumb tack that wasn't on the sink a minute ago before finally drying my pocket enough to leave the bathroom.

* * *

I see Percy hurrying into the girls' bathroom and I put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, that's the girls' bathroom."

He nods.

"The boys' is right over there."

Percy waves me off politely, and enters the bathroom. He steps out with his school ID card.

"Oh, you left it in there?"

I get another nod from him as he sticks it in his pocket.

"Oh- so you're.. more comfortable going in there?"

"Mhm."

"It's- correct me if I'm wrong- but you're fluid with your gender?"

"Mhm."

Percy is kind of mysterious, but I think that he was just a girl that eventually said _"hey, I'm not that big on dresses or skirts anymore."_ then changed his hair and clothes. It works for him.

The whole school isn't a complete jerk about gender stuff, but at least he's getting bullied as a guy.

Plus- I think we're not that different, we get pushed around, made fun of, and we're both just two losers at the bottom of the social hierarchy that are awkward as hell. Maybe that's why I want to connect with him.

Maybe with the squip, I could actually befriend him.

"You can talk to me, I'm not a jerk."

He sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

I pause for a moment, then ask the question that pops into my head. "How's your friend, uh, Veronica?"

"Ok."

Wow, I got a word out of him. "I have to go home, but it was nice, talking."

Percy gives me a two fingered salute as if saying ' _see you later_ ' before walking off.

I head away from the bathrooms, I'm hanging out at Michael's house today, so I better get moving before the bus leaves.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm leaning over Michael, staring at the computer screen. Friday's are our day to hang out at his place and take turns playing Half-Life 2. We switch when we die, and so far? Michael did the whole water canal segment without dying.

I speak up. "Dude?"

"Mmm, yeah?"

I think for a second, and tell him: "Rich uh, confronted me in the bathroom about something he calls a squip."

"And..?" Michael avoids a headcrab, spamming the crowbar at it until it dies.

"And.. he told me that it would improve my social status."

"Dude? No way- yo! I'm almost to Water Hazard!"

"You'd still be my friend?" I grip the computer chair. "Headcrab."

"Headcrab." He shoots at it this time, and moves on. "Dude, I'm your _only_ friend. I'll always be the Barry to your Gordan." Michael chuckles, he's at the NPC. "Neat. I made it." My friend stands from the computer chair. Sometimes if our turn is too long, we give over the controls to the other- only at the end of a level though. It'd be strange to switch in the middle of a fight. "Take the keyboard my guy, I've played out my turn looong enough."

"Oh, thanks man." I sit myself down on the half warm chair, picking up where he left off. "I still want to get it, it sounds good. It might actually improve my life."

"Jeremy, he's scamming you."

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean? I just give six hundred- oh. It's.. a scam.. Oh my god." I place my hands over my face, dragging them. I bang my head on the keyboard and sigh. How have I not given that possibility a thought? It could be a scam, but, it felt like Rich wasn't kidding.

I pause the game and look over at Michael. "Payless. We can still try it there, Rich said he had a provider. That way it can't possibly be a scam."

"Even so," Michael leans on the wall. "Promise me you won't be too cool for gaming with your best friend. 'Kay?" He shoves me lightly, I shove him back, he laughs.

"I'll _never_ be too cool for my favorite person."

"Hah! I'm your bestest and most favoritest person in the whole wide world?" Michael bows in a lighthearted mocking sort of way. "Oh! I'm so honored! A toast then, to you! _My_ favorite person!" He heads to his mini-fridge and grabs two bottles of Ecto-Cooler. I take the one he hands me.

"I will never _not_ hang out with you, Michael Mell." I take a sip.

My friend grins and gives me a noogie. "Hey!" I take his glasses and put them on.

"Yo! I can't see!" He pulls me out of the chair, swiping my drink and chugging it.

Michael keeps it out of my reach as I'm trying to take it back. Sooo... I tackled him. Right on the ground. I am wrestling him for some Ecto.

"Wrong move Jer!" He rolls me over, sitting on my chest. Michael takes back his glasses- putting them on- as he prepares to make me do somthing. But he puts his Ecto-Cooler beside my face, standing up. "Have mine, I've messed around enough."

Or not.. okay... I take his drink-

"But you can only have it for a kith." He puth on a lithp- I mean- he puts on a lisp.

I roll my eyes at him. "Alright, I'll kiss my homie, but seriously Michael, next week we go to the mall.

"Kith your homie and he'll give you fifthy buckth."

"Fine.." I stand, planting a quick peck on his nose.

Honestly, I should've expected it, but my mind was so fixated on the squip thag fifty bucks sounded like a big help. (I could find my bar mitzvah money, a one hundred dollar bill from a birthday card, and then whatever else I find between the couch. In total, it would be about $590.) Because Michael grabbed my face, doing a _very_ low effort Yakko Warner impression.

 _"Helloooo Nurse~!"_ He gives me a big long smooch on my face.

I pull away im fake disgust, failing to hold back my laughter. "Bleeeccchh!" Michael's humor makes me laugh waaay more than it should.

"Here, fifty bucks for putting up with my dumbass shenanigans." He digs through his wallet, handing me a twenty and three tens. My hand receives, shoving the cash into my back pocket. I give him my thanks, then we resume playing Half-Life 2.


End file.
